


Big Brother

by hawkywithshawzy



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:58:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkywithshawzy/pseuds/hawkywithshawzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonny was always that overprotective brother, even at 27 years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Brother

**Author's Note:**

> This was SO fun to write, and one of my favorite pieces of work. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :)

Growing up in Winnipeg, there was almost nothing on kids mind’s but hockey. Hockey and family, that was about it. So when Jonny, my big brother, was finally old enough to teach me how to skate, that’s all he wanted to do. He bought me my first pair of skates when I turned 4, giddy and fumbling with the laces as he tried to tie them perfectly.

 

“They gotta look like this,” he explained, showing me his skates that sat nicely by the sliding door, the homemade ice rink still and inviting through the glass.

 

It was the thick of the winter, the snow heavy and the air seemed almost frozen. Despite this, Jonny never failed to crawl into my bed, tapping me awake and helping me into my gear for an early morning skate. He’d hold my hands tight, scared to let go because he didn’t want me to fall, even when I told him that I could do it all by myself. He was stubborn, but I was thankful for that, because if he wasn’t who knows what bone I could’ve broken. He was only a year older than me, and he protected me like it was the only thing he had to do with his life. He’d make me Mac and Cheese, but only give me five noodles at a time because he didn’t want me to take too big of a bite and choke, and he’d always wrap a strong arm around my shoulders when I walked up to the rink, wanting to join in a game with his buddies.

 

“You’re my little sister, Y/N. I have to make sure you don’t get hurt,” he’d say. When I’d tell him I was sneaking out and not to tell Mom, he’d launch into a rehearsed speech: “Who are you meeting? Where are you going? Are you gonna be drinking? Who’s driving? You better not be driving, or I swear-” Most of the time, he’d just end up coming with me. He’d grab my wrists and force me to tell him everything, so I just give in and let him come see for himself. While it seems annoying when you explain it clean like that, Jonny would never let me down. He was there for every tear, like when I cut my finger trying to put on my skates all by myself when I was five, holding a band-aid on it even when it stopped bleeding, or when his best friend David checked me a little too hard in a game of Christmas break hockey, my head slamming hard into the boards, helmet and mouthguard flying. By the time I came to again, all I saw was Jonny unleashing a big one on David, his other friend Matt trying to pull Jonny off him. He glanced my way to see me trying to stand up, arms shaky and head pounding, and he immediately released David’s jersey to pick me up and carry me to the car, holding my hand and letting me lean my head on his shoulder all the way to the hospital. Only a concussion, nothing too serious, but Jonny asked the doctors every question he could, and he made sure I avoided loud places, bright rooms, and anything else that may remotely be overwhelming.

 

And he was there when Chris, one of his teammates, served me by first broken heart by means of a Facebook message. We’ve shared a room our whole lives, from the moment I was born to the moment he left for the NHL. I was a bouncy kid, always on the go, always playing hockey, always having too much energy. So when Jonny bounded in after a late afternoon practice with his travel team to see me curled up in a ball, whimpering and sniffling into one of his sweatshirts that I stole from his bed because it was well-worn in and warm, he knew something was definitely wrong. He tried asking me what happened, rubbing my back with a concerned look on his face.

 

“Y/N, tell me what happened. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.” After sitting there for about 2 minutes without saying anything, not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know how, he just grabbed my shoulders and let me bury my face into his shirt, trying to calm me down but not knowing how. I went from crying like a baby to feeling anger like I’ve never known, and even then Jonny let me punch him until my hands were sore, yelling: “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him! I swear to God, he’s gonna be dead the next time I see him!” That’s when it clicked, and he strengthened his grip on your shoulders, pulling you tight against him, stopping your punches.

 

“No, no, I’ll take care of that. You’re okay, you’re okay. He has no idea what he’s missing, nobody screws with my baby sister and gets away with it,” he said, resting his chin on your head.

 

“Hey, I’m not a baby, I’m 17 years old, Jon,” I said, just needing some kind of joke to ease the tension. I was tired of crying and I just wanted to play hockey. He could read me better than anybody could, so without saying a word he grabbed his skates and led the way out the door.

 

That was almost ten years ago. Now, Jonny is an NHL hot-shot, captain of the Chicago Blackhawks after just one year on the team. I stayed in Chicago after I graduated from Northwestern University with a degree in sports broadcasting. With Jonny being on the Blackhawks, he was able to land me an interview with the promo team. I love being a part of the team, and I love getting to know the guys. I pull pranks on them, mess with them. Growing up around all boys, I knew how to chirp, and even though these guys were big-time hockey players, they didn’t scare me.

 

Jonny was still Jonny, protective and stern, but when he isn’t looking, I sneak off with Shawzy, shooting around at the rink or grabbing a bite to eat. Jonny has yet to figure it out, and I want to keep it that way, because, well, he’d basically flip out and he’d probably consider killing Shaw. Everything was sunshine and rainbows, until I got a text from Kaner when the boys were on the road.

 

“Hey, what’s up with you and Shawzy?”

“What? Nothing, why?” your heart was racing a mile a minute, praying he wasn’t talking about what I think he’s talking about.

“He was talking about you in the hotel elevator with Teuvo earlier, idk sounded kinda hot lol”

 

And now you heart stopped. If he knew, that means Jonny might find out, and that would be it. Lights out, game over, goodnight. 

 

“Does Jonny know?” you asked, nervous fingers wiggling over the keyboard, and three dots popped up almost instantly.

 

“So something IS going on? Lol, he might, hasn’t said anything though, so who knows.”

“Don’t say a WORD, Kaner, please, I can’t have him worrying about me, okay?” he replied with “Ok,” and that was that.

The day went on, and you were halfway through writing your post-game review for the website when you got a text from Kaner.

 

“Jonny knows, and he’s pissed. Hasn’t talked to Shaw all bus ride back to the hotel. Had to hold him down when he heard. Just preparing you…”

 

Not even a second later, your phone blew up, getting six texts from Jonny. 

 

“ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE, Y/N”

“REALLY, SHAWZY, REALLY”

“OUT OF EVERYONE YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN WITH IN THE CITY OF CHICAGO YOU CHOOSE SHAWZY”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU FUCKING SAY ANYTHING”

“DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I WANT TO KILL HIS ASS RIGHT NOW”

“I’m calling you, and your ass better answer.”

 

Not even a second later, Jonny’s stupid face showed up on the screen, and even though you hesitated, you knew you had to face it sooner or later.

 

“Hey, Jon, great game to-”

“Don’t play with me, Y/N. You know exactly why I called,” he said, cutting right to the chase.

“Okay, yeah, I do, but I don’t get why it’s such a big deal,” you said, knowing you were playing your cards here but not giving a shit about what Jonny had to say. It was your life, and you could date whoever you wanted. Simple as that.

“You don’t get why it’s a big deal? Y/N, it’s Shaw, Andrew Shaw. I mean, I know you have a thing for hockey players, but did you really have to go for one that’s on my team? Of all guys, SHAW?”

“Well, would you rather me date Kaner?” you jabbed, knowing you were riling him up.

“Oh no, absolutely not. If you dated Kaner...I think I’d kill him with my bare hands,” he said, continuing on. “It’s just...I don’t know, you’re my little sister, I want to protect you and I know what kinda guy Shaw can be. He’s a good guy, don’t get me wrong, but he can be crazy sometimes. I just don’t want you to get hurt. You mean too much to me,” His voice grew softer as he went on, and you took it as your cue to speak.

“I know you do Jon, but you gotta know that I’m okay. Your whole 27 years of life have been dedicated to making sure I was okay, I mean everything I did you were right there next to me. You even became the manager of my hockey team just so you could give me pointers. You’re the best big brother anybody could ever ask for. But seriously, I’m smart. I learned from you, and you’re one of the smartest people I know. We’re basically the same person. I know what I’m doing, trust me. I’m not 17 anymore, I’m not crying over stupid boys. I can handle a guy like Andrew Shaw,” I said, hoping that wins him over.

I heard him chuckle a little bit on the other end. “Alright...but I swear to God if he hurts you Y/N, I’m laying down the law. You’re too good for that kind of shit, am I right?” you could practically hear his smirk through the phone. “Yeah, you’re right, you’re always right, Jonny. Good win, though. That 5-Hole in the 3rd was SICK,” I said, and all was good in the Toews family.


End file.
